Nice Weather
by Lucy Kay
Summary: Gill was perfectly content on his lonely bench… until someone sat beside him. Waiting for the bus can feel like an eternity, come rain, sleet, or snow, but the weather is always nice when you're with someone you love. My first drabble series! 50/50 Complete! Thank you!
1. Someone Sat Beside Him

**A/N:** After flubbing with a massive multi-chapter entry that was impossible to finish in time, I decided to not be so insane and enter The Boundary Buster prompt (courtesy of Accidentally The Whole Fanfic over at The Village Square) with a different try. Here we are! Even though I've seen these two characters shipped up and down the boulevard, I haven't actually put my hand in the pot and written a fic for them yet. More importantly, I've never done a drabble series before. So! Here's my shot at doing just that.

I got this idea from one of my favorite songs: "Kiss Kaerimichi no Love Song" by Tegomass. You've probably heard it in the credits if you've seen the anime _Lovely Complex_.

Thanks for reading!

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 **\- 1 -**

* * *

When the weather was nice, Gill rather liked waiting for the bus. The particular street with his stop was rather quiet this time of day. Most of the district was retail but for his office, and their extended hours left the streets littered with tourists and shoppers. When the sun shone down through the shimmering leaves of the little oaks with their caged, puny trunks along the boulevard, he could close his eyes and listen to the breeze humming through the alleys. And it was almost like he was home. The stress of another unsuccessful day would melt.

Of course, most of the typical city noise killed that reminisce pretty quickly. The squealing brakes, constant traffic, and the perpetual scent of fried food from the corner stand were different, mussing up his memories. But he could like different. He could adapt. That's why he was here. And though Gill wouldn't admit to liking any tomfoolery, he had to admit that the city struck him with an exciting sense of adventure. He was out of his element, but he had gradually camouflaged into just another man off the clock.

While he waited for Bus 59, he had his little wrought iron bench all to himself, and he was fairly content. Or – at least he was. But his peaceful, routine existence was stolen from him today.

Because someone had sat down beside him.


	2. Stubborn

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 **\- 2 -**

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There were two other benches closer to the bus stop – he just couldn't understand it. Why sit _here?_

Gill didn't like his job. He made his money, and he did his time, and he valued the precious little of his daily routine he had away from the office. He did what he had to do to get by. And so, he felt he was entitled to _some_ form of compensation, and he really wasn't asking for much. He chose the bench furthest from the busy bus stop, all of the way at the other end of the street in a shady alcove of a skyscraper. After a long day, all Gill wanted was to sit here on his bench, forget the tedium of his day, and board Bus 59 for home. That's all he wanted.

Who did she think she was? Gill was polite enough to habitually sit on the far left and not hog the whole bench, but perhaps that was also because he liked having an arm rest. There was plenty of room, sure, and he didn't _own_ the bench; he couldn't kick her off. _And yet—!_

Maybe if he glared hard enough, she wouldn't show up _again_.


	3. This is Uncanny

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 **\- 3 -**

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Gill's feet slowed to a disbelieving stop. There. Again. He could see the back of her brunette bob, spotting her at a distance. Sitting at his bench.

He was starting to get suspicious. He'd been in the city for quite awhile, and he had run into familiar faces rarely. He would recognize a handful of the bus drivers, sometimes the man selling churros, and maybe a street performer or two who loitered too long in the same habits. Otherwise, the only other people he'd come in contact with on a daily basis were his own coworkers. Everyone else was a stranger. Forgettable, inconsequential. Indifferent. In and out of existence as they passed by.

What were the odds of seeing the same person in this whole big city more than once? Twice? Three times?

He began to wonder at that chance, quietly sitting down on his side of the bench.


	4. Do You Have the Time?

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 **\- 4 -**

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He began to get used to it. Because there she was again – propping up her chin on the right arm rest. All of the other benches once more totally empty or with room enough to spare. This couldn't just be mere coincidence.

 _She must work in the area…_ he told himself logically, setting his briefcase down at his feet and smoothing the wrinkles in his pants. He tugged at his starch collar, wishing he dressed a little lighter for the weather.

So seeing her wasn't so much a surprise, no, but getting used to sharing his bench? He was determined to hold this grudge to his grave. He could easily switch benches himself, but Gill was stubborn, and that was stupid – she should move. This was his spot first.

Annoyed that his thoughts were swirling with immaturity ad nauseum these days, he had a startling jump when he realized the voice was speaking to him. He looked sharply to his right. The girl was looking at him.

"My phone died; I'm sorry," she elaborated, holding up her dark-screened cellular. "Do you know what time it is?"

He pulled up his light blue sleeve and checked his watch and promptly reported: "5:06."

She sighed in disappointment, like it was his fault it was six minutes past five. "Hm… thanks."

Gill pointedly looked away and crossed his arms. Bus 59 was about nine minutes away, and that felt like nine minutes too late.


	5. Sloppy Girl

I'm not sure why, but drabbles 5-8 got all glitched out; so I hope this fixes things by re-uploading them. Thanks so much for the heads up, LTS!

Thanks for reading!

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 **\- 5 -**

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Clouds lazily littered the skies, and the pavement smelled like sulfur. It had rained.

Gill found his seat mercifully rather dry and – even better – the rest of the bench vacant. He settled in and admired the grey expanse overhead, finding the gloom rather strangely comforting and easy on the eyes.

But he didn't get to enjoy the peace of his solitude in the spring afternoon for long. _Click, click, clack_ – of the approach of her high heels on the uneven concrete, and the bench was weighed on her end as she unceremoniously plopped down.

Gill tried people-watching as usual, but the nagging urge to study his unwelcome bench companion got the best of him. He finally looked her way.

She was slight and sloppily dressed. Her outfit wasn't put together - like she had just grabbed whatever blouse was in her closet and the first dress pants she found at the store. The brunette bob was rather messy upon closer inspection, and there was a lock of hair perpetually caught standing over her bangs like a radio antenna. She had a bored, almost glum, expression on a cherub-cheeked face as she stared down at her smart phone, scrolling through the menus for something to do to pass the time.

Wholly unremarkable, if you asked him. Not that anyone was asking.


	6. Arrogant Boy

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 **\- 6 -**

* * *

He was re-thinking his summation of the girl when he saw her yet again, now dressed in a short pencil skirt and sharp blazer, hair pinned back and carefully tamed. But for the stubborn antenna. The oversized shoulder bag she usually had squashed next to her was replaced with a clutch purse in her lap. She had really gone all out for something. Maybe a client meeting at her job?

Creating scenarios for this stranger's life was rather amusing lately. He felt like a sleuth as he surmised her general appearance and more or less made up stories to explain them. It was fun to a certain type of person. Gill's type.

Coming up with how he might have looked to _her_ was taking up his wait time today. Gill liked to think he dressed himself smart; he always ironed his clothes, and he shopped in high-end department stores that his salary could afford. But considering her obviously lower budget, maybe he looked arrogant to her. Snobby. With the way he glared when she simply asked for the time, he put the final nail in the coffin with confidence that he had made himself an enemy. Which, he suppose he had intended, since his precious bench was his warzone. With a shrug to himself, he decided he really made himself quite unlikeable. But that was no skin off his nose.

It made an interesting study, he supposed. But his musings had grown tired. She could be ignored; there was no further investment of his thoughts to be made.

He pulled self-consciously at his own unruly lock of hair hanging out of place, wondering what he was going to do with the next seven minutes before Bus 59 would come by.


	7. Change Tactics

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 **\- 7 -**

* * *

Gill had a plan today.

He had strategically bought a newspaper outside of his apartment that morning, and he had carted it around with him all day. It was folded tight under his arm as he slipped past slower pedestrians, as he spun through the revolving doors of the office, and as he finally crammed into the elevator. Just for the sole purpose of hiding from her this afternoon.

He noisily held up the paper to his nose, engulfed in the strong scent of ink as he was shielded like he was in his own little room of tragedies and cars for sale. A semi-truck angrily held on its horn all of the way down the street, zipping past and rattling the newspaper in his hands. Undeterred, he gave it a flick to straighten it out and feigned interest in the mediocre columns.

Here he was all but locked away, and yet… he felt eyes on him. Puzzled by the sense, he went with his gut and peeked over the top corner of his paper that was comically raised to keep his peripheral blocked. Sure enough, brown eyes were staring back at him in surprise.

"Um! Sorry!" She squeaked in fear and embarrassment for getting caught peeping. She scratched behind her ear and clumsily looked down the street where the truck disappeared.

Gill folded the page over and saw she had been trying to get a glimpse of the classifieds on the back. He wordlessly pulled the last page with the job postings free and handed the noisy square over to her. "You can have it."

"Oh! Thank you!" She accepted it a bit too enthusiastically. She immediately got to work skimming the ads on her lap, pulling out a pen from her bag and circling in blue ones that sparked her interest.

Gill's curiosity was piqued, but he quickly went back to his stock exchange article.


	8. Lending a Hand

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 **\- 8 -**

* * *

There was thick cloud cover that had a nasty wind to accompany it. It howled through the streets in hollow echoes, tossing all manner of discarded fast food wrappers and plastic shopping bags out onto the sidewalks.

Gill struggled with his newspaper and thought better of it, crumpling it up and pressing it down into the rubbish bin off to his left. He crossed his legs and sat back, tickles of irritation welling up as the wind harshly battered him and whistled in his ears.

The girl on his bench had taken his idea and had brought a book with her today. It looked like a thin, dollar store paperback, but she was openly enthralled with it – and increasingly so. Her lips were parted as she leaned forward eagerly towards the words, her nose getting closer and closer to the page. Gill had never seen someone so utterly absorbed. He almost wanted to laugh at her wide-eyed fascination.

She wasn't fully aware of her surroundings, and her leaning got her into trouble. The tip of her book caught a woman's bag in passing, and it dropped from her hands. She let out a cry of alarm as she went to pick it up and the wind did it for her, skirting her story off towards the curb. "No!"

Gill didn't know why – he didn't have to get involved. Perhaps it was because he held books in high regard and couldn't see one get severed in the busy street. Whatever the case, he found himself jumping to the rescue. He dodged a pedestrian and swept up the book just as it turned over and tumbled towards the asphalt.

He awkwardly brushed it clean and noted the cover and stopped short, his ears tinging red. A man and woman were in a tight embrace with a cheesy, photoshopped background of a farm. The offending piece was ridiculously titled: _Lost in Love's Seasons, My Cowboy_. Gill stiffly handed it back to her, unable to take his eyes off of the cover of the romance novel.

"Thanks!" She chirped half-convincingly, not meeting his eyes. She curled in on herself, losing the book to the deep recesses of her shoulder bag. She crossed her legs and leaned as far away as she could on the arm rest.

Gill sat back down and held his fist over his mouth. It was the only way to hide his smile as his shoulders silently shook in laughter.

Reading time was over at their bench.


	9. Fidget

Thanks for the review, LTS! Glad it's working now. Here's hoping that was the last of the upload trouble. n_n

Thanks for reading!

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 **\- 9 -**

* * *

Though the wind died down, the sky remained stagnant and thick with stratus. Gill had grown bored of the bumpy puffs of grey, hoping for a break in the clouds for some warming sun.

He was watching them swirl above feeling like an ant in such a big place beside these towers that gave him vertigo, his neck craned almost all of the way back. He usually wouldn't let himself get so preoccupied with such a trivial matter as sky-gazing, but he found himself early to the bench, and the minutes were passing excruciatingly slow.

Suddenly, his nose itched and he sneezed, rocking forward with the force of it. He shook his head in surprise, not realizing he had given the girl on his right a heart attack from the unexpected jump scare.

"Er – here," he heard. Turning, he found the brunette extending a friendly hand. In her open palm was a pack of tissues. Gill accepted them, and she smiled. "It's easy to catch a cold this time of year."

"Right. Uh, thanks," Gill returned her pleasantries, opening the pack and unravelling one of the cheap squares. For some reason, he felt embarrassed to blow his nose, like he was under some kind of scrutiny, so he just dumbly dabbed at his face. He coughed.

Maybe it _was_ a cold. He didn't know why, but his heart had skipped a beat there.


	10. Nice Weather, Isn't It?

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 **\- 10 -**

* * *

The girl was in a good mood as she sat down and spritely crossed her legs, bouncing her foot. Gill easily ignored her – his day at work had been rather lousy, actually – and instead he focused on the work in his lap he was taking home. Deadlines brought overtime and overtime brought misery. Her happy attitude was rather unwelcome, especially today.

She stared up at the sky above them, watching as the trail of a jet engine puffed out and slowly faded in the deep, cloudless azure. A gentle breeze blew a napkin from the café across from them into the speedy traffic, sending it whirling around in cyclones. She took a deep breath and smiled. "It's nice weather, isn't it?"

Gill was going to pretend he didn't hear this attempt at small talk, but he stopped and thought a moment. After a quiet survey of their environment, his eyes fixated on a large puddle directly ahead of them in the asphalt. He watched the sky pass by in its reflective surface before looking up at the real thing. He fidgeted. "Yes… I suppose it is."


	11. Proper Introduction

Thank you, LTS and AlianaKensington for the support; same goes to the follows and favorites, too! I hope I can get the hang of this drabble thing, so you can enjoy the rest of this short story very soon.

Thanks for reading!

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 **\- 11 -**

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To Gill's surprise, he found it was her who was initiating their introduction.

"You're here everyday," she suddenly said, hesitating to sit down quietly as usual. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, but I think you're the only person in this city I've actually seen more than once! Feels weird to ignore it."

He thought he had been the only one who found it bizarre. Gill straightened his shoulders for a brief shrug of indifference. Perhaps it was true. This stranger was a constant. But it really didn't mean anything.

She sat down and unplugged one of her earbuds, leaving it to dangle over her lap. She moved her bag and leaned, and Gill stared at her open palm stretched out towards him. "Guess it can't be helped! My name's Angela."

He hid his reluctance and let his professional side take over, returning her handshake with a curt nod. "Gill."

The girl now named smiled and settled into her corner, scrolling through her music player for a song. Gill sat back as well, staring straight ahead. He couldn't understand why he felt his routine had been rattled. Maybe because the stranger couldn't be called a stranger anymore.


	12. Puzzling

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 **\- 12 -**

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It was a murky overcast as Gill waited for Bus 59, desperately trying to keep his eyes anywhere but right.

Every weekday since they had been introduced, Angela would greet him with an energetic: "Hi, Gill!" before she'd make herself comfortable and get lost in her phone. Gill had greeted her in turn with a nod of acknowledgement, but he was fairly good at ignoring her, just as he preferred.

But now he could hear the distracting victory jingles and synthetic shuffling of the game on Angela's phone. It was one of those Sudoku apps, and she was quick about completing the puzzles. It was fun to watch out of the corner of his eye (fun as anything waiting for the bus could be), but he had grown accustomed to keeping to himself. So he didn't want to let her know he was watching. Felt creepy.

The time on the clock was running out. Angela struggled to fill in random numbers, hoping something would click. Gill twitched. He knew the answer. _Swap the three with a seven… three with a seven… three with a seven!_

"Huh?"

Gill turned bright red. He actually said it out loud.

Angela looked at him for clarification, but since he didn't repeat himself, she went back to her puzzle. She took his advice, but the timer ended, and she lost the game. She snapped her fingers, tossing her phone in her bag. "Drat! Oh, well. We'll get it next time."

 _We?_


	13. The Bus

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 **\- 13 -**

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"Maybe I should get a car…"

Gill had been busily reading a pamphlet that was shoved into his hands that morning in a weak attempt to look like he was preoccupied. But, apparently, his guise didn't deter her.

Angela crossed her arms with a sigh, thinking it over. She was talking more to herself than to Gill, really. But the bait of small talk was there. "But I'd hate to drive on these streets – the people are crazy. Besides, then I'd have to worry about car payments and insurance. I guess I'm doomed to take the bus forever. Least they could do is get better seating though, you know? Hurts your back."

"Hm…" Gill almost cursed himself for humming aloud at her musings. Angela seemed to have this pull on him; he couldn't just let her talk to the air. But maybe that was with people in general.

At his light agreement, she turned towards him more adamantly. Gill felt obligated to hide the cover of the pamphlet, so she wouldn't see the garbage he was pretending to read in order to avoid her. "It's always really hot, too! It's like they have the heat on all year; it's almost summer, so you'd think they'd crack a window. And the _smell_. It's the actual worst. Everyone's all cramped together, and it's so quiet – I feel like I could scream."

"It's… not ideal…" he lamely returned.

Gill pried his eyes towards her, and he found Angela was facing forward again. Her little rant had concluded. After his three worded argument, she seemed to change her tune – to his annoyance and confusion. She had a satisfied smile on her face. Bus 12 passed, and she pleasantly sighed. "Yeah… but I kinda like it."


	14. City Smells

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 **\- 14 -**

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The click of her heels signaled her arrival, and before long, he heard: "Hi, Gill!"

"Hello," Gill said. He had reached the point where it was more troublesome to ignore her, and it was best to return her greetings. He didn't need to be making _enemies,_ he told himself. That's the only reason he entertained her cheerfulness day after day.

"Mm…" she grumbled to herself, hand over her lips in thought as she appraised the state of the bench. There was a fresh spring rain coming down, and they were both safe under umbrellas. But where Gill had an unreadable newspaper to mop up his side of the bench for a seat, Angela did not.

"Here," he offered his own seat for her, taking the trouble to stand.

"Oh, no – it's fine! Thanks!" Angela apologized, refusing his generosity.

The deed had been done, and the rain had now claimed his seat as well. They both awkwardly stood alongside the opposite ends of the bench from each other, staring out at the rain.

Angela chuckled wryly. "I never know what to do in these situations… maybe I should carry a towel on rainy days."

Gill let her have her reflections, and he watched the dark puddles splash under passing tires. The city smelled awful on rainy days. Steaming, sticky wash running down the streets. Lingering in stagnant pools and collecting litter. The stench of the sewer lines and the grates lining the walks. He wasn't the type to feel homesick, but Gill would rather be anywhere else in the world on a rainy day.

Angela took an audibly deep breath, and he waited for her to recoil. But she grinned, gesturing to the food cart on the corner. "Mm! Those crepes smell so good!"

He hadn't noticed that.


	15. Allergic to Bad Jokes

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 **\- 15 -**

* * *

The skies had cleared up enough that people felt compelled to take their pets on walks. It was a particularly bad day for Gill what with the pollen from the trees making his allergies act up already. On top of the dander, he was quite the snuffly mess.

He sneezed a fourth time, and Angela failed to say her regular 'bless you.' Gill took out another tissue from the emergency pack he carried. His eyes itched, but he didn't rub them in fear of making them water worse.

Angela watched as another dog and owner passed, struggling not to coo at the Pomeranian's adorableness as it waddled happily along at a trot to keep up. Her eyes found Gill blowing his nose again as she watched the dog go. He sneezed. "Are you allergic to dogs?"

"Pet dander. Pollen. Peanuts," he answered, his voice muffled behind his hands. His face was tinged pink in a mixture of his sickness and embarrassment, but he never felt particularly embarrassed about someone knowing he was an allergen bomb before.

"That's a shame! Must be hard this time of year. I'm allergic to bees, so I have it pretty easy. You don't see those out on leashes everyday," she said, her voice teasing.

He actually snorted at that. It caused him to cough, and Angela giggled at his reaction. Bus 59 pulled up, and she bid he take care as he excused himself. It was the first time he waved goodbye to her.


	16. Where Do You Work?

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 **\- 16 -**

* * *

Angela fell into her seat with a huff. She kicked off one of her heels and twisted her ankle, groaning. "Phew…! That was a long day. Hey, Gill, where do you work?"

Startled at how abrupt the question came, Gill looked her way. He had been squinting at the sun reflecting off of the shop window across the street, warping the shadows of the cars and people passing in front of it. His eyes took a dizzying second to adjust before he decided her question was harmless. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "That building."

"That big one?" Angela asked. Gill nodded. She whistled low, screening her gaze with a hand to her forehead for shade as she looked the skyscraper up and down. "Wow! I could get lost in a place so big. But at least that's how you always get here first; not much of a walk."

"Where do you…?" Gill's question trailed off as he wondered why he wanted to know where she worked in the first place. Traps of small talk?

"Oh, just around the corner. I'm about three blocks that way," Angela waved her hand in the direction she always came from. She took a pack of mints from her bag and popped one in her mouth. "I can't stand where I am, but at least it's a gig in an office. I've been interviewing for _ages_ all over the place _,_ but I guess I should just be grateful I've got a desk."

Gill remembered that. Going from company to company to find that exchange of time for money. Until he could get his real work done, he needed that contracted income. It wasn't easy. He found himself sounding optimistic. "You'll find something."

He didn't think about how that something could leave his bench empty. Or why that was suddenly a problem.


	17. It's Hot

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 **\- 17 -**

* * *

The sun beat down on their wrought iron bench that felt like it was in a forge. If touched with bare skin, it was downright painful. It was easy to tell which businesses could afford air conditioning and which ones could not by which doors were propped open and which were shut tight. It was a hot summer.

Gill was having a time adjusting his wardrobe for the warm months. He was never particularly keen about it and stubbornly clung to his long sleeves and slacks for as long as he could. He'd rather feel faint than give up his loafers. He lazily fanned himself, feeling like Bus 59 would never show.

Angela had adapted a little too well. She wore a professional but sunny dress cut just above her knee. When she sat, it revealed a good amount of thigh she wasn't shy about. She kicked her feet and ruffled her hair, the smell of her shampoo wafting through the air. She seemed to be enjoying the clear skies, staring almost straight up and watching the green leaves billow on the spindly tree nearby.

"It's hot," she reported. Angela wasn't bothering with small talk today. But that was fine. It was nice to just sit sometimes.

Gill was grateful for the silence, waking up a little from his haze. When his bus did arrive, he found himself hoping it would be hot again tomorrow.


	18. Gum?

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 **\- 18 -**

* * *

 _Pop!_

The weather was tame, and there was a warm, relaxing breeze rolling through. But Gill couldn't sit still.

 _Pop!_

It was one of his pet peeves. It was entirely his fault he was so enraged at such a little thing. But even knowing that—

 _Pop!_

He couldn't deny that he was about ready to start a fight.

Angela was blissfully unaware of his rising blood pressure, massaging the wad of gum in her mouth against her teeth. She fanned it out until it was flat enough for her tongue to press it, and she exhaled. A sweet pink bubble blew from her lips, and Gill waited for the infuriating, inevitable –

 _Pop!_

He released his welling sigh of exasperation and purposefully looked down the left half of the boulevard.

"Oh!" Gill turned to her in rising hope she'd realized her annoying habit and would stop for his sake, but she was hopelessly not on the same wavelength. Angela fumbled through her bag, handing a pack out to him in offering. "Hey, did you want a piece?"

She was clueless.


	19. I Have to Ask

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 **\- 19 -**

* * *

Watching her, Gill finally had to ask. It had been far too long for him to still be wondering about it. It was intrusive, and he would understand if she was offended. But he just had to try. He couldn't hold back anymore.

"How much stuff do you have in there?"

Wide-eyed, Angela had a pen between her teeth, and she was rifling around for who-only-knows with half of the contents of her bag carefully stacked on the ledges of the bench seat. Scattered there were a pack of tissues, a wallet, a change purse (there was apparently a difference between them he never considered), a glasses case, a makeup bottle, a phone charger, band-aids, some mysterious little box, lip balm, a hat, and a pair of scissors. And by the sound of it, there was still well enough crap in her purse for whatever she was looking for to still be missing.

At receiving her stupefied expression, Gill stubbornly prompted her again. "Doesn't it get heavy? How do you carry all of that? Is it organized?"

When Angela started to laugh, he became annoyed. She laughed harder when he was pointedly offended by her reaction. In the end, he was mad and never got his answer, and Angela had her bad day turn unexpectedly into a better one.


	20. Invisible

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 **\- 20 -**

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Gill had been having a rather nice, sunny day until someone almost sat on him.

"Hey! Watch what you're doing!" Angela had immediately went on the offense before he could set up his own defensive strategy against being stifled. The woman who was distracted by her loaded shopping bags and buzzing smartphone profusely apologized for invading his space and stepping on his foot, and she was awkwardly on her way.

He was used to it. Maybe not quite to this caliber, but Gill had grown passive to his uncanny knack of invisibility. He wasn't remarkable, he wasn't noticeable, and he wasn't even very handsome. So these types of occurrences were bound to happen. No one ever held doors, the elevator was always a second too late for him, and he was everyone's batting buoy in crowded areas. Frankly, he was surprised that when these things did happen, they didn't happen more often.

Angela was still unnecessarily riled up on his behalf, her arms tightly folded as she glared at the woman's retreating form until she disappeared. "Some people! Sheesh!"

"It's really nothing to get excited over," Gill assuaged her anger. It rather surprised him to see her so worked up. She was usually so perky. He attempted taking it with a dry sense of humor to see if he could cheer her up. "Chalk it up to karma."

"Don't be silly – you're the nicest person I've ever met. Don't let anyone convince you different and walk all over you."

She surprised him yet again.


	21. Not So Stranger

Hey, thanks for the review, Jay! Luckily, you don't have to wait long for updates, haha. This is really buzzing along. Might be the fastest story I've ever done if I keep this speed.

Thanks for reading!

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 **\- 21 -**

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As Angela sat down, Gill began wondering if they were still strangers.

Technically, they couldn't be. They were on a first name basis. So that meant they must have been acquaintances. He didn't know her last name or really _anything_ about her, so they weren't all buddy buddy. But… that wasn't entirely true either. He actually knew quite a lot.

Gill knew she favored crossing her left leg over her right. She was right-handed. She liked crappy books, and she had a knack for puzzle games. Angela was an enigma, too. She could be smiley and optimistic, but he'd never seen someone so quick to temper. Her mood skipped like a stone on the water. So he didn't know all of the ins and outs of this person beside him on the bench, but he didn't know _nothing_ about her either.

But still. What was this? This _thing_ they had? He wasn't completely averse to seeing her these days, but he wasn't all gung-ho 'let's pick out curtains together.'

What made a friend?

"Hey. Isn't this one yours?" Angela piped up.

Gill zoned back into reality, realizing Bus 59 had pulled up to the stop without him noticing. He sprung to his feet in alarm, nearly forgetting his briefcase in his rush to catch it. He muttered a thanks to her and then again as he hurried back, and she handed him the newspaper he left behind.

As he collapsed into his usual seat on the bus, he realized that maybe that was simple enough, but it was something a friend would do.


	22. A Shared Umbrella

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 **\- 22 -**

* * *

A nasty summer storm greeted Gill as he left out of the revolving door. He vainly tried holding his umbrella up to the elements, the wind pulling it with a vengeful ferocity as it billowed and snapped over his head. It was a sad shield, but at least it was one.

 _Typical_ , he almost said aloud as he stood by his bench waiting for the bus as she approached. Angela had a light jacket over her head to defend against the torrents of cool rain. She greeted him with an impossibly wide smile, squealing in merriment as a car swept by and sent a wave of water her way.

Gill wasn't utterly heartless, though the thought annoyed him nonetheless. Still, he wasn't about to let this _child_ get herself sick and lose her new job because she wasn't properly prepared for the rain. He waved to get her attention and held out his umbrella, inviting her in. Without question nor hesitation, Angela hurried over to gratefully huddle beside him.

Her wet tendrils of hair dripped little droplets of water down her arm that subsequently landed in a steady rhythm on his elbow. Angela hugged her bag tightly to her chest, and a low rumble of thunder echoed from the sky. The pair didn't bother trying to talk over the noise of the rain even though it was impossibly quiet underneath their shared umbrella, taking comfort in awkwardly looking up and down the boulevard.

They'd never been this close before.


	23. Missed the Bus

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* * *

 **\- 23 -**

* * *

Gill felt like such an idiot. He had been so absorbed with the work he had brought home for that night, opting to get some of it done while he waited outside of the office for the bus. Angela had been politely quiet, only saying her hello and then keeping to her headphones and half-dozing. It wasn't until he lifted his watch and noticed it was 5:23 that he started to panic.

The street suddenly looked unfamiliar. A bus passed by, and he hoped against hope that it was Bus 59 running late, but it was plated with a number he didn't recognize. His stomach twisted. "I… I missed my bus."

Angela took out an earbud, looking up in alarm. She checked the time on her phone, and her face creased in worry. Gill didn't know why. She just so happened to mention that she took Bus 24. That wasn't due to arrive until 5:25.

"Okay, don't panic! I've got it!" she promised, scrolling through her phone in concentration. Gill felt paralyzed as he watched Angela slide across the bench to sit closer, showing him her phone screen. She had pulled up the bus schedule. "See, you can take 7 – it's the later one. It'll come by at about 5:32 according to this travel update. Bus 7 has the same route though, so you're golden. I'll wait with you."

Gill didn't realize how pale he must have looked until her offer. He quickly shook his head, regaining his senses. "N-No, thank you… you don't need to miss your bus, too, just because I wasn't paying attention."

"Er… too late for that," she chuckled, scratching her cheek sheepishly.

He checked his watch again and realized that she had wasted precious time helping him out – her bus was now long gone as well. By the look on his face, Angela was already back into assurances she could do the same, since the number 43 was coming after it, and she could catch her late bus, but Gill could barely hear her. All he could think was that it was such a small act, but it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.


	24. Warm Jacket

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* * *

 **\- 24 -**

* * *

The wind had a harder bite to it, and it smelled cleaner. The skies were a little paler. It was a touch of autumn that was already on its way.

Which, of course, meant that Angela was grossly unprepared for the weather yet again.

"Gee! What a day, huh?" She asked, gingerly taking a seat and folding her legs left over right. She rubbed her bare shoulders and shivered as another breeze from the traffic chilled her. "Brisk!"

Gill drummed his fingers on his briefcase, mulling it over. He rather enjoyed the shift in the weather. It was a welcome reprieve. But he started to feel like a nanny as he removed his sporting suit jacket and handed it over to her, getting a fresh chill from the wind now himself. "You can return it tomorrow."

Angela had an argument, but her lips were threatening to turn blue, so she took what was handed to her. She hesitated, looking at it like it was an offensive fashion piece as Gill thought – the possibility that a borrowed jacket having ulterior meaning going over his well-coiffed head. But she swallowed hard and wrapped it about her shoulders like a cape, strangely struggling not to breathe and hiding her red face. "Th-thanks…"

Gill sat unphased. Maybe she'd learn to dress properly. He doubted it though.

But bizarrely… _I kind of like that about you._


	25. Promotion

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* * *

 **\- 25 -**

* * *

Angela came barreling down the sidewalk - wearing an appropriate sweater for the cloudy day, Gill noted. She had a 100 watt grin as she skidded to a stop, tossing her bag into her seat but remaining on her feet. "I got a promotion!"

Her announcement took him off guard. Always one to analyze every last angle of his day, Gill marveled that he appeared to be the person in Angela's life to tell this kind of news to. But he supposed it could make relevant conversation. He robotically chose to empathize. "Congratulations. That's a big accomplishment."

She planted her hands on her hips, a man in passing narrowly dodging the protruding elbow. "I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere, you know? I was really heard! I mean, it's just more work in the long run and barely a raise, but… every penny counts, right? But don't worry! I'm not going anywhere. Same office, same time. So I'll still be here to bug you day in and day out as usual."

Something sparked. Why would she say that? Did it look like Gill was worried? Why would he be worried? Should he have been worried? Why hadn't her possible disappearance from a promotion at work even occur to him? Why, now that it had, did it make him so relieved to know she would stay?

Lately, Gill was quite the mess. At least one of them seemed to have it together.


	26. Number Trade

Thanks HersheyC101 for your review! Here's five more drabbles for you. Goal is to finish by Friday. Woohoo! Hope everyone had a Happy Christmas!

Thanks for reading!

* * *

 **\- 26 -**

* * *

Angela fumbled with her phone on a warm, sunny day. She seemed to be making up her mind. Gill dismissed her odd fidgeting as characteristic of her and was comfortably ignoring it until her voice cracked with obvious nerves.

"I-I mean! I don't wanna sound too forward or anything, but I thought if you… or me! Me, too! If one of us missed the bus again, or… well, if you – or me! – was running late, it could be handy if—"

Gill sighed through his nose, already with his cheap flip phone out of his pocket and dictating. "3… 1… 7… 7…"

She leapt into action with a happy giggle of relief and victory, putting his number in her phone. There was a shy smile on her lips.

As Gill saved her contact information into his phone, watching the circle buffer and then confirm it was written in stone, he decided he had to admit he was sort of happy, too.


	27. A Cold

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* * *

 **\- 27 -**

* * *

Gill had to do a double take over his newspaper. For once, he didn't hear Angela arrive.

Her shoes were sensible, and her coat was too thick. Her nose was red, and her mouth was hidden in a scarf. With the dazed look in her eyes, he really didn't have to ask to know, but he did anyways. "Are you alright?"

"Mm…" her voice was muffled under all of the layers, but even Gill could tell it was raspy. Angela shrugged. "I'm sick."

"You should stay home when you're not feeling well," Gill said, feeling like he sounded like an employee handbook.

"I know… I just didn't want to mi—" her voice trailed off and halted as she went wide-eyed.

"Miss work?" He provided.

"Yes!" She took the prompt too quickly and realized it with embarrassment. She scrunched as far as she could into her corner, resting her head dejectedly on her fist. "I just… didn't want to miss work."

Her change in attitude threw him off, but he flicked out the pages of his newspaper, finding the column he taught himself to like. He hoped she'd feel better tomorrow. It wasn't the same when she was down.


	28. Text Me Back

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* * *

 **\- 28 -**

* * *

Gill's phone buzzed, and he reached into his pocket to check. For a moment, the overcast sky was reflected on the little screen before it lit up with a button press. He didn't notice the girl practically giggling to herself in anticipation on his right.

It was Angela's number. He gave her a sideways glance that she blissfully ignored by turning her head, and he opened the text. _"Hi! :D"_

"Are you—?" Gill began to ask aloud, but when he looked to Angela, she was pouting and holding up her phone. He rolled his eyes and meticulously typed: _"Are you still sick?"_

He could hear her ringtone chime, and she quickly sent him an answer. _"Nope! All better! n-n"_

Gill frowned. _"Then why are you texting me when we're on the same bench?"_

Another second, and his phone vibrated in his hand. _"Cuz it's fun! :P"_

He scoffed. _"You use too many smiley faces."_

That got a fast reply: _"D:"_

Gill looked up and found Angela making the exact same distressed face as her text. It caught him so off guard that he laughed outright, stifling it too late with the back of his hand and faking to rub his nose as cover.

But she noticed and swelled in pride. She finally made him laugh.


	29. Missing

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* * *

 **\- 29 -**

* * *

The street was bustling with activity, and the sun was unnaturally warm for the month. Fashion and pumpkin spice was in the air, and people were out and about laughing on their TGIF.

But Gill was lonely.

He played with his phone almost without realizing it, opening it and snapping it shut over and over again. He looked up and down the street and checked his watch. His unread newspaper sat neatly folded atop his briefcase by his side.

He waited as long as he could, but Bus 59 soon pulled up to the corner. Forced to leave, he made one more stare down the street where she usually showed up. But she didn't come today. Gill finally boarded and took his usual seat, feeling a little lost as he watched the boulevard disappear out the window as the bus rounded the corner.

The bench felt empty.


	30. Where Were You?

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* * *

 **\- 30 -**

* * *

He thought about texting her when she didn't show up on Monday or Tuesday, but he didn't want to be _that guy_. Whoever that guy was. Probably looked like a clingy worrywart – which Gill _was not,_ thank you very much.

But he couldn't disguise the look of relief when he saw her brown bob coming up the sidewalk on Wednesday. Angela cheerily sat down like she hadn't missed a beat, and crossed her legs, popping in her headphones.

Before she could turn the music on and drown him out, Gill bravely cleared his throat a few times to get her attention. She turned in surprise. He was suddenly at a loss for what to say. "Uh… you alright? You… um… for a few days… just… wondering."

"Oh! Yeah, I was out of town," she reported matter-of-factly. "My sister had a baby."

"Er – congratulations! To your sister, I mean," he finished lamely.

Angela thanked him and was about to find her playlist when she thought of a way to tease him. She smirked. "Aw, did ya miss me?"

Put on the spot, Gill got defensive and went to yesterday's newspaper. He had forgotten to buy a new one this morning with his mind so preoccupied. He hid the date with his hand. "I… it was… quiet."

Angela took it as a bad thing. She relieved a sudden itch behind her neck. "Oh."

He cleared his throat and hid himself behind his newspaper, remembering a spring day some months ago when he used this trick before. "Too quiet."

She kicked her heels together, leaning forward and staring at the cracks in the concrete as she smiled to herself. His words were almost too low to catch. Almost.


	31. Running to Wait

Thanks so much to tarandayo, AlianaKensington, Accidentally The Whole Fanfic, and IslandGirl892 for the support last update! I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story, and I hope I can improve my drabbles using your helpful feedback. I really appreciate it!

Looks like I'm running a bit late, but I've always liked a time crunch. Still gunning for wrapping this up tonight. Hold tight!

Thanks for reading!

* * *

 **\- 31 -**

* * *

Once he punched out, he found himself in a hurry. The elevator felt painfully slow, and he was wishing with every level that he took the stairs. He checked his watch and bounced on his heels. His coworkers wondered what he was late for as he quickly moved through the group and out into the cool air.

He was only a few minutes late, so it wasn't the bus.

He didn't have any deadlines to meet, so it wasn't work.

No appointments, no promises, no plans.

Angela's form was already on the bench, and she was idly humming to herself with her music blaring. Seeing her there brought him a sense of catharsis, like the whole day was leading up to this moment. His mood lifted, he felt at ease, and his feet sped up again to meet her at their bench.

These days, Gill found himself running to wait.


	32. Leaves Are Falling

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* * *

 **\- 32 -**

* * *

A cold wind blew by, and Angela's sentence died on her tongue.

Gill followed her eyes and found her gaze attached to a brown leaf over his shoulder. The leaf twitched in the breeze, rattling and leaving the twig it had grown from since it was a bud in spring. The wind picked it up and dizzily took it out to the curb where it rolled into a discarded paper cup.

Angela looked a little sad and wistful as she watched it go. "That was the last one."

Up and down the street, the other trees had become bare, their leaves sticking along the sidewalk and the alleys in pockets and crannies. Passersby had thicker scarves and tended to keep their heads low as their hair was batted around by the cold. It was already that time of year.

So much time had passed since he had met this person and befriended them… or rather, vice versa. Even though Gill still went home alone, still hadn't made any friends at work, still didn't go out except to run errands… he wasn't lonely anymore. Angela had replaced an ache in his heart. He was grateful, but he didn't know how to express that. How to get that across without stifling her or pushing her away. He wasn't good at this game.

As he sat back and watched the cup roll into traffic, he wondered if she already knew.


	33. I Spy

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* * *

 **\- 33 -**

* * *

Angela was particularly bored as they waited for the bus today and insisted they play a game.

"A game?" Gill asked, befuddled. What could they do on a bench other than people watch? Rock-paper-scissors?

She was already humming and comically stroking her chin in thought. Finally, her eyes brightened and alighted on him. "I spy… with my little eye…"

"Not this…" he found himself whining as he crossed his arms. It felt like she chose the most boring, tedious game to annoy him.

Angela ignored his protest and went on. "Something blue!"

Gill wrinkled his nose. "The awning."

"Nope!" She chirped.

"The… hole in the clouds? That stripe on your bag? That poster for contact lenses? It was a car?" His guessing got more sporadic with every shake of her head.

"Ooo, wrong again! You're never gonna get it," she giggled in satisfaction.

Well, now he was determined to win. Gill thought harder and harder, but nothing in the little grey world around them stuck out in anymore hues of blue. After a few more wild guesses, he was finally forced to begrudgingly give up. "What was it?"

"Pfft," Angela scoffed, pointing right at him. "It was your eyes!"

Gill's face heated as she laughed. He demanded a rematch and chose an impossible item like a specific pebble to get her back.

It… was not something anyone noticed day-to-day. But she did. All this time… was she watching him, too?


	34. Sharing a Snack

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* * *

 **\- 34 -**

* * *

The sun was shining bright, but its warmth didn't quite reach their cold, little iron bench. They were wrapped up in heavy coats, and even through all of that fabric and layers, Gill could hear Angela's stomach growl.

"I-I had a light lunch; I didn't pack enough!" She tried to explain away her embarrassment after Gill snorted at her rumblings.

"Me, too," he simply replied, opening his briefcase and procuring the pack of candies he bought at the office vending machine. He usually wasn't the type, but he had been feeling peckish all day and was planning on snacking on the bus. He opened it up and offered it to her. "Cold weather makes people hungry. Say when."

"Oh… thank you!" Angela held up her hands. Gill didn't notice her tense in surprise when he took her hands in his own to steady them as he tilted the bag. She watched the round sweets fall into her gloves and got a little lost watching them.

"Is that too much?" He asked since she didn't give him any feedback to stop. Gill supposed he didn't mind her just having the whole bag though if she was so hungry.

"A-A bit! Sorry! Here!" Angela snapped back into attention and offered her hands up between them. "We can share! Er…"

Gill saw the problem, too. She didn't have any hands to eat with. He picked up a red candy from her palm and held it up for her like he would feed her. Angela's face turned beet red like the sweet, but she opened her mouth for it. Gill's expression was bemused as he held it up higher, higher, higher over her head, watching her neck crane back for it. And then he ate it himself.

Angela broke into laughter, cheeks perpetually pink. "Heeeey! Stop teasing!"

He couldn't help it. She was funny.


	35. Family

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* * *

 **\- 35 -**

* * *

"You said you had a sister?"

Angela was surprised at their turn in the conversation, away from their usual chatting about their fellow pedestrians, work, or blue sky. She looked up at a puffy cloud and watched her breath rise. "Yeah! She's married and lives out in a little town. Lots of open air. I love visiting her out there, so I tend to invade and take my time."

It ended in a laugh that sounded a bit self-deprecating. Gill didn't expect that from her. He furrowed his brow.

"What about you?" She prompted him, tilting her head to the side. She rarely asked about his personal business because it tended to make him uncomfortable, but it seemed fair since he asked first. "Where does your family live?"

"In the open air," Gill watched the same cloud she had, like it would have answers in it. "But… I left."

Angela bit her lip. "Why?"

Good question. Gill thought he'd find something in the city, but so far, he was out of luck. "My father couldn't. I mean… _someone_ needed to go. But I'm here and no closer to fixing things either."

He seemed to be talking in riddles to her. Which was fair, since the problems of Gill's hometown were of no concern to anyone on the outside. He remembered leaving over a year ago to see if this land across the water held any ideas. But… he was no closer. Had he lost his way?

If she was talking to anyone else, Angela would have said it sounded like he needed to go home. There were obviously people waiting for him, and he didn't exactly leave on a good note from the sound of it. But… she didn't want to lose their bench. As insignificant and selfish as that sounded.


	36. Superstitious

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* * *

 **\- 36 -**

* * *

There was a broken compact beneath their bench, and of course, Angela just had to comment on it.

"That's a shame. Bad luck, you know," she said, kicking it with her shoe until she could see the distorted sky in the mirror's cracks.

Gill was burrowed in his scarf. He pulled it down to free his mouth as he looked down his nose at her. "Superstitions? You shouldn't waste your time believing in such nonsense."

"There's a grain of truth in all things," she argued. "Besides, it's fun! Here, lemme show you – I can read your palm."

"What? You can't. There's nothing to read. It's a hand," Gill remained a stickler as Angela scooted closer and brought her leg up between them. Still, he relinquished his hand when she grabbed for it, and she took off his glove and rested the back of his hand on her knee to study it.

She was awfully concentrated for a few moments, pulling his fingers this way and that and tracing the lines she found. Gill watched her in growing intrigue as she smirked. She pointed to one of the horizontal creases in his palm. "See this? It's your head line. Says you're a realist. And this means you're focused."

"It means my hand bends," Gill muttered.

"Typical coming from someone with such a short heart line," Angela teased. Tingles ran up his spine as her finger followed another line. "It's parallel here, so this means you're in control of your emotions. Hm…"

He found himself getting caught up in all of her jargon. She released his hand and he stared at it like it would tell him what she saw. "What?"

"Oh, it was nothing. I don't remember the rest," she lied. Truthfully, it _did_ seem like something foolish to get excited about. After all, a hand can't really tell when a person's in love… right?


	37. Hot Cocoa

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* * *

 **\- 37 -**

* * *

White clouds puffed out of their noses and lips as they huddled against the shivers. Gill was feeling a little dreary; he was having a hard time focusing on much anything lately. He was having a bit of an existential crisis being reminded of his motives for coming to the city in the first place.

Angela sensed his silence and suddenly stood. She called: "Watch my bag!" over her shoulder as she ran down to the corner, clipping away in her heels.

Gill curiously tried to see where she was off to, but there were too many people to see through this afternoon. The time had changed, and it was already almost dark now as they waited under the streetlights.

She reappeared in a few minutes, walking back much slower as she balanced two steaming cups in her hands. She sat and passed one to Gill which he accepted in bafflement. "Thought it sounded good. I hope you like cocoa."

"Thank you…" Gill enjoyed just holding the hot Styrofoam between his hands, the smell of hot chocolate under his nose having an immediate, calming effect on him. He added: "Really… thanks."

"It's just cocoa," Angela shrugged with a little smile as she sipped hers.

But they both knew it wasn't.


	38. A Song

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* * *

 **\- 38 -**

* * *

Winter had settled in that deep place where the wind cut through the warmth and touched bone. But it wasn't all despair. People were constantly upbeat and chattering about shopping that needed to be done. All of the food was hot, and the smell of spices overpowered the usual car exhaust. Cheery music was filtering out of every store.

The song currently weaving its way to their bench was a song Gill found particularly annoying. He grumbled dismissively about it, and Angela smiled. She silently handed him one of her earbuds.

A little unsure, Gill rubbed it on his sleeve and carefully placed it in his ear. It was too quiet, so Angela turned up the volume as loud as can be before it would be painful. She hid the screen of her phone from him where she had selected a song. "It's my favorite."

Gill didn't know why, but he thought it was going to be some kind of kitschy pop number if it was supposed to be her favorite song. But slow, steady piano built up in sad, nostalgic notes. It echoed in his one ear and seemed to consume his negative emotions, melting him. Muted and distant. Like walking on the ocean floor.

Angela gauged his reaction in bubbling worry. The song ended, and she hit pause to stop it from shuffling to a new track. Gill seemed to wake up, looking down at her phone. He gestured, holding a hand over his ear that didn't have the music. "Play it again."

She happily nodded and put it on repeat. She let out a content sigh as she watched the street, their shoulders relaxing against one another in order to be close enough for the string of the song to connect them.


	39. Snowing

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* * *

 **\- 39 -**

* * *

"Oh…"

Gill stopped mid-step as he went to catch Bus 59. Angela was staring up, and he looked, too, at the overcast. White expanse without end, without mar, without the slightest off color shade. And snowflakes fluttering like tiny crystals of confetti began to stick as they reached the ground.

Angela held out her gloves and caught the snow as it fell, melting into the fabric and leaving dots of moisture. Flakes stuck to her hair and eyelashes like bits of static foam. Gill noted the white now adorning the sleeves of his own coat, standing out in stark contrast from the black fleece. Staring at the snowflakes, he realized in another moment why they felt so surreal.

"You're going to miss your bus."

"Yeah…"

They'd officially spent four seasons together… and just about every turn of the weather.


	40. Close the Distance

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* * *

 **\- 40 -**

* * *

Gill stared at his vacant spot in the corner of the bench, finding it odd.

He was sitting at the center of the bench, and Angela was comfortably beside him. She was playing Sudoku on her phone, and he was reading the back of a folded newspaper from that morning. He just suddenly looked up and realized where he was, wondering how he got there away from his arm rest but still unwilling to move.

It must have been gradual. For convenience's sake. Talking across the way from someone wasn't ideal, and sharing snacks and music and silly games was easier without the gap. But here they were just… quietly sitting. They didn't _have_ to be sitting so close, but there they were anyways. Maybe having the presence of that person near was enough to pass the time. It was almost unnerving to think he could simply lean over slightly and kiss her, but _why on earth_ was that the first thing to come to mind?

When did they close the distance?


	41. Present

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* * *

 **\- 41 -**

* * *

Angela was busy digging circles in the pavement with the heel of her shoe when Gill suddenly set a plastic bag on her lap.

"It's not special. I just happened to be out when I saw it, and… it's… whatever," he prattled on, as if he was trying to outweigh the sentimentality of his gift with his insistence he didn't care about it. Actively trying to tarnish his generosity and the fact he was thinking of her. "I didn't wrap it."

"You…?" Angela's face flashed with guilt at being empty-handed but mixed with genuine happiness and surprise. She rifled through the plastic and brought out a pair of fuzzy ear muffs. "Wow! Thank you!"

"Because you're never dressed for the weather, and your ears are always red. So," Gill lamely explained with an attitude to mask his humiliation. He really shouldn't have bothered. It wasn't worth this embarrassment.

Angela seemed to spring right off of the bench in her excitement. Gill barely registered she was hugging him as he rapidly blinked in frozen shock with her arms tightly around his neck. He had been so deprived of human contact, isolated in this crowded city, that he almost forgot what a hug _felt_ like. And she didn't let go either – she dragged it out well past awkward to hide her own face, forcing Gill to tentatively pat her back and avoid eye contact with everyone giving them side-eyes.

"I love them; they're great, really," her voice was muffled in her own arm as she squeezed him. "I wish I could give you something just as nice."

This was… definitely good enough.


	42. Different Perspective

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* * *

 **\- 42 -**

* * *

Angela was enchanted with the snow and liked to point out wherever it still remained white and pure. The majority of it was slush or dyed grey or splashed into ice. But the city was attentive and mostly clean, leaving the roads and sidewalks clear for passing. She was talking about it now with exuberance – something she had for all conversation topics – motioning towards the branches overhead that had icicles frozen to them like glasswork.

Honestly, Gill wasn't really listening. He was studying her profile, analyzing her features and how different they looked from when he first appraised her months ago. She was a sloppy, cherub-faced nobody then, but now… well, her cherub-face hadn't changed. Her cheeks were expressive from her eyes to her smile, and Gill wanted to poke one to find out how much was squish and how much was hot air. Her nose was a puny slope, like it tried to curve but forgot and only remembered right at the tip. Her eyelashes were cumbersomely long; he thought it'd be inconvenient to have lashes like that. Her lips were distracting and always, always, _always_ talking, and that lock of unruly hair stuck out at an odd angle from under her hat. She seemed so different now, but she really was just the same. She'd always been Angela. One he didn't know then and now one he…

Well. He just hoped he didn't still look like the arrogant boy beside her.


	43. I Had a Dream

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* * *

 **\- 43 -**

* * *

Angela hesitated before she sat down, just looking at Gill for a moment. He glared at her in suspicion, and she quickly sat. He put his newspaper away – he couldn't get much reading done with this snow fall anyways – and shifted the mint in his mouth. "What?"

"Nothing. I just remembered – I had a dream about you last night," she admitted casually, her eyes following a taxi cab that stopped across the street.

Gill blanched. He coughed into his fist, the opposite of subtle as he avoided choking outright. He waited until the mint melted. "Ah… what was it about?"

"I don't remember…" Angela said more skeptically, poking her thumbnail into her lip. At the same time he realized she wasn't wearing gloves, he noticed she had on the ear muffs he got her. She just _had_ to balance it out somehow. She shrugged as she gave up trying to recall. "But… you were there."

"Hm," he commented, now seemingly indifferent to the news.

Angela scooted a bit closer and intrusively hid her cold hands in his empty coat pocket while they watched Bus 12 go by. Gill didn't stop her.


	44. Picture

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* * *

 **\- 44 -**

* * *

It was dark and cold, but Angela was still trying to get a good angle in. Gill watched her out of the corner of his eye for awhile before he finally set down his book. "Do you want me to take it for you?"

Startled, Angela jumped but shook her head and looked down at her phone. She deleted the picture. Smile was too fake. "Nah… my sister just wanted to see… hey. Get in here."

"What?" Gill asked as Angela turned her selfie cam to include him in the shot. He used the book to hide his face as she took the picture. She saw and scolded him. "Why do I need to be in a picture you're sending to your sister!?"

"Well… I never got a contact picture for you in my phone anyways. Come on! Smile for me!" Angela cheekily grinned at her camera and snuggled up to his shoulder.

He let out an irritated huff but settled his face enough for a decent picture. Angela took a few, jabbing him with her elbow and finally giggling when it worked in getting him to smile. They got one good picture after her photoshoot, Gill leaning his head towards her, and Angela's laugh reaching her eyes. She sent it to her sister and to him as well.

Gill was becoming very bad about saying no.


	45. Need Advice

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* * *

 **\- 45 -**

* * *

"Maybe you'd know."

Time to face the music. Gill was at a dead end. He'd learned his lesson. He left his home to try to save it, but now he knew he couldn't do anything from far away. He needed to go back. But going back was hard. It would mean so many changes. He was finally settled here. He had a job, an apartment… a bench.

"What if I asked you… for advice?" Gill finally spoke up again, coming to the decision to tell her. She set her phone back in her bag when she saw he was being serious. He took a deep breath.

Angela watched in rapt attention as Gill pledged his case on their shared bench in the shadow of a skyscraper. He needed to leave. But he didn't want to. He couldn't leave. But he wanted to. There really wasn't anyone he could ask, and her opinion, at this point, was the only one he cared about. He'd do what she thought was best. "As… a friend?"

Angela's shoulders slumped as she thought it over. It was obvious – she just needed to say it. Gill had to go back home; he was needed there. The area around her suddenly felt foreign, looking at it from an outside perspective. Even the chipped paint on this wrought iron bench. Some things just… mattered more.

"What if… _I_ said…" Angela let out the breath she was holding. Her heart was pounding, so she barely heard her own reply. "Can I go with you…?"


	46. Sleepy

Thanks for reading!

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 **\- 46 -**

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Ever so slowly, Angela drooped. Gill had been watching over his book, and he had to try not to laugh as her head dipped enough and landed on his shoulder. Her lips parted, her eyes closed. She was fast asleep.

A baby was crying at the café, and a hot rod sped by revving its engine. Car doors slammed, feet tromped by, and the ever present hum of the city buzzed in his ears. It was a marvel anyone could fall asleep with so much noise.

Gill focused on not moving, so he wouldn't disrupt her. She had a lot going on with her job. He didn't mind being her shoulder.


	47. Feeling Homesick

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 **\- 47 -**

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As the snow started to melt, Gill felt homesick.

It was hard to see spring in the city. That life breathing back through the world. The sun would get just that little bit brighter, just a touch warmer. But he couldn't see the first flowers or the grass greening out over the fields. The flocks of constant pigeons pecking at the discarded fries couldn't compare to the migrating geese and their sorrowful song as they came back to the lakes and ponds. The smell of the plow tilling up the soil in the local farmlands, the churn of the sea tinging more blue than teal as the waters changed with the mountain snow runoff. He missed it. He really did. He could feel it in his heart – home was calling him back. He'd see this season there again.

"Look, Gill. It's almost spring," Angela pointed over his head.

He followed her finger and found the tiniest of buds of the leaves on the caged little oak trees. The bows swayed in the wind from the traffic, and Gill smiled at the innocent serenity. That touch of home even here, this place that was so different from what he knew. Angela had found it.

He put his hand on her head and ruffled her hair affectionately. She griped that he ruined her hairdo. There was nothing to ruin. They continued to lightly bicker on one of their last days on their bench.


	48. The City Life

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 **\- 48 -**

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One day, Angela was struck with a sudden melancholy. "Will you miss it?"

Gill thought of all of the perks of going back home, and he was genuinely excited. But… maybe he would miss this city. It was busy. Home could be lonely, too quiet. The city was always active, always someone to see, something to do. There was no shortness of places to go, things to listen to, people to watch. He liked the routine and the order. It had a certain security. The architecture was something he truly appreciated, too – the innerworkings of the infrastructure and the organization of chaos was awe-inspiring to say the least. He had definitely learned that cattle weren't the only ones that could be herded.

Half of a torn flyer was sticking out of the grate by the curb, and a fizzing cigarette was still emitting trails of smoke on the ground next to the trash can. Gill would have turned up his nose a year ago, but… he liked it. There was character here. Definition. Every person walking by and everything down to a piece of litter had a story.

He sighed. "Yeah… I will."


	49. We

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 **\- 49 -**

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Gill could tell Angela was getting cold feet when the week was winding down. He didn't know what he could do for her though. _How do you stop a running mind? What do you do when the quiet is uneasy?_ If Gill had the answers, he would be able to calm his own fluttering stomach.

He gave her a nudge, physically upsetting her thoughts. She pulled her eyes away from the curb and looked at him. Big brown eyes asking. He assured her. "You'll be alright."

This might've been her idea, but that didn't mean she stopped doubting. Leaving her job, her home… it was nerve-wracking to be sure. Especially how it must have looked to anyone else – her sister would freak if she knew not only had she fallen for this guy she met on a _bench_ at a _bus stop_ , but that she was also _following_ him…? But she quite enjoyed their daily dates. That's what they felt like to her, anyways. Angela gave him a sneaky look, determined not to be the only one with her nose and cheeks tinged pink. " _We_."

" _We_ 'll be alright," Gill corrected himself with an eye roll. He never expected this stranger invading his bench to graduate all of the way up from annoyance to love. But he couldn't deny that this time they shared had become dear to him. It was simple. And perfect. And if he had to leave his bench, he was just stubborn enough to not leave the entire routine and so dragged her along with him.

Their hands were sitting beside one another, just a hair's width from touching. Gill looked at them for a long while before his fingers twitched in hesitation and took hers. Angela's fingers curled in response and gave a squeeze in turn. He repeated himself. "We'll… be alright."


	50. The Last Bus

This is the end! Thanks for reading! This was a lot of fun, and I'll definitely do another drabble story in the future. Thanks for the cool prompt to try something new, Accidentally The Whole Fanfic!

Happy New Year!

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 **\- 50 -**

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It was hard to believe Gill was doing something _this_ crazy.

Their two weeks' notice was up, and his desk was cleared. No one batted an eye as he left those revolving doors. And this was their last bus. Who knew Bus 59's route also went to the ferry? Gill decided it was meant to be. Not that he believed in fate or anything.

Spring had broken the last bits of snow, and with it, his worries melted as well. Gill hadn't felt so sure about anything since he had made the decision to come to the city in the first place. But he'd grown so much since then, and he'd come home stronger. Maybe this was what he was meant to find after all. This person beside him on the bench.

"There's our bus! This is it!" Angela jumped up. She turned in her sun dress, the skirt catching the wind as she reached out and took up his hand in both of her own to pull him to his feet. Gill grabbed his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, keeping Angela's left hand in his grasp and giving it an encouraging squeeze as she stood in line to board the bus beside him.

The bench was left empty for the next person to find it as the bus pulled away from the stop. Gill returned Angela's smile, not really believing yet that she was real. She closed her eyes as he parted her hair, but she was confused when he gave her face a poke. He kissed the spot.

The future looked bright… and the weather was nice.


End file.
